The Bite
by Jasmine Syms
Summary: Stiles was hurt on a recent mission and Scott saw how easy it could be for him to get killed. He tries to convince him to get the bite so he will be safer.
1. Chapter 1

**okay so like pretend they went on a mission where stiles got srsly hurt and he has just recovered and shit**

"I'm fine Scott, I don't need it." Stiles looked up at Scott standing in his room pacing while he sat on his bed.  
"You were unconscious for two weeks! I didn't know if you were gonna make it, Stiles. And I- I can't lose you. I can't risk it, can't keep putting you in dangerous situations when you're just-"  
"Just what, Scott?" He crossed his arms. "Just a useless human? Thanks, that's really-"  
"That's not what I meant." Scott's voice was barely above a whisper. "It's just so easy for you to get hurt." He paused to take a deep breath. "I hated seeing you almost dying because of me. I don't want to see that ever again. Even my mom-" He scratched the back of his neck. "She would never say outright it was my fault, but she told me that if you made it- we were running on ifs and maybes then- that I needed to bite you if you were going to keep taking part in plans. Your dad said something along the same lines. He told me he didn't care what I did but I had to make sure you weren't going anywhere defenseless. They were- they were wrecked, man. You don't know how devastated everyone was at just the possibility of you dying, so I just need to know I did everything to stop you from doing it for real." He sat down next to Stiles.  
"Shit, I'm sorry. I know it's about time, I just... I have this feeling that I won't turn into a werewolf, I'll be some kind of monster and- and what if my eyes are blue? I don't want confirmation that it was my fault!"  
"Why would your eyes be- is this about Allison? Stiles, you know none of that was you."  
"It's about everyone the nogitsune hurt. You know when I told you I remember the things I did? The thing is I also remember being trapped in my mind at the same time. I have my memories and its memories. Its feelings. And it doesn't stop after the split, when he died I saw all the things he had done from his view and- it's like there's an echo of him inside me- like a horcrux of him, like Harry Potter had a part of Voldemort in him. All I'm saying is if that's enough to make Harry get the wand with a feather from the same phoenix who's to say this won't make me into some monster?"  
Scott grabbed Stiles's shoulders and made him look him in the eyes. "Listen to me, Stiles. There is nothing wrong with you and you aren't going to turn into any kind of monster. Just a normal werewolf like I was."  
"Well technically you're weren't normal, you had that true alpha thing going on under the surface." Stiles smiled at his friend as Scott gave him a light punch.  
"Shut up." He grinned. The two were silent for a minute.  
"So... do you just bite me? Or are you gonna buy me dinner first?"  
"Are you okay with it now? I won't do it if you're not on board."  
Stiles held his arm out and gestured to it with his other hand. "My body is ready."  
Scott took his arm in his hands and looked once more at Stiles to confirm. When he saw him give a small nod his eyes turned red and his fangs appeared as he leaned in and gave him the bite.  
Stiles bit his lip to avoid yelling out because _that hurt like a bitch._  
Scott pulled back and returned his face to normal, his job was done. A moment later, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID before picking up.  
"Lydia?"  
"Okay, I don't know what you're about to do but I just got a really bad feeling that you are going to screw up bad, so whatever you have planned, please don't do it and just- just stay with Stiles, keep an eye on him."  
"We don't have any plans. Lydia, what's wrong?"  
"I just- I had this feeling about Stiles. Something's going to happen to him."  
"We're fine right now. In fact, soon he's going to have extra defenses soon because I just-" Realization hit him in a wave. He dropped the phone and looked at Stiles.  
"Please tell me you feel okay, Stiles, please."  
"Yeah, I'm fine, buddy. Except- I know the actual bite is supposed to hurt because, well, you got bitten by really sharp teeth, but is the pain supposed to be spreading all ov-" He was cut off by a fit of coughing. He held up his hand to cover his mouth and when the coughing subsided he pulled it back to reveal a black liquid covering his hand. "That doesn't look good."  
Scott pulled the phone off the ground and interrupted Lydia's demands to know what happened with a rushed "Gotta go, I'm sorry." He hung up and dialed another number, the phone trembling in his hand.  
"Derek you gotta help me fix this." He didn't notice he was sobbing out his words until Derek responded.  
"Are you crying? What happened, Scott?"  
"I bit him. I bit him so he wouldn't get hurt again and I didn't think this would happen and now he's coughing up stuff and I don't know what to do."  
"Who?" Derek demanded, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was, anyone but him.  
"Stiles." Derek sucked in a breath and said nothing, letting Scott look back to his friend and notice the small whimpers he was letting out despite trying to stay quiet so Scott wouldn't know he was hurting.  
"Derek!" Scott yelled to get his attention.  
"I'm sorry."  
"No! You're not sorry, because there's nothing to be sorry for. You're going to help me and I'm going to thank you. You are not going to be apologizing." Scott had moved over to Stiles and was holding his hand, taking his pain.  
"There's nothing you can do."  
Scott let out a harsh laugh. "I just almost lost my best friend in the entire world because of something I dragged him into. I am not going to lose him now because of something I did directly to him. Are you with Peter? He might know something."  
"There's nothing to know Scott. It's going to get worse and worse for him and you might need to kill him when it gets bad, and-" Scott stopped listening after that. He threw the phone at the window, breaking the glass and sending it flying. "This isn't that, you're not dying. This is just a bump in the road. You'll get better and we'll both be werewolves together."  
"Scott." Stiles's voice came out raspy and Scott realized how bad his friend had started to look. He was just as pale as he was when he first got to the hospital, unconscious. Black liquid oozed out of his mouth and nose and down his chin. "Scott, it's okay."  
"No it's not! What am I going to tell your dad? What's he going to do when he gets home and it's silent and your room is empty? How am I going to look at him ever again? And Lydia, how is she going to take it that she called five fucking seconds too late? How can I look at anyone anymore when they know I did this? It's not okay that we're going to live in a world without Stiles Stilinski."  
Stiles teared up and whispered "I'm sorry." He pulled Scott into a hug and didn't let go. After a while Stiles was crying out in agony. He wanted it to end, but he knew he couldn't ask Scott for that. He just held onto him and let him take the littke amount of pain he could.  
Scott rubbed his hand in circles on Stiles's back as they cried into each other's shoulders. A long time passed before a thought occured to him. _When did Stiles stop screaming?_ He frantically checked his friend for a pulse and came up with none. "Stiles, please."  
A few moments later Scott heard the front door of the house open and the sheriff's voice trail through the house. "Stiles, I'm home."


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry i haven't updated in forever... i had originally planned this as a oneshot but accidentally marked it as unfinished so when i got followers i had to think of something to add... but i do have a full idea now, and i recently got a laptop so i'll be able to update more :)

i don't own teen wolf yada yada

Scott didn't know why he jumped out the window of the house. He knew Stiles' dad deserved to know what happened, not just walk into his room and find him dead with no explanation. He had

to stay, everything logical told him he needed to stay, but sometimes werewolves let instincts take over.

He ran out of the yard with unnatural speed, not caring if he started to transform in broad daylight. He found himself in the woods where he collapsed on the ground and let a howl rip through his lungs. Sobs wracked through his body as he lay among the dead leaves. How fitting, as he is surrounded by death in everything else.

He knew Derek was watching him a long time before he acknowledged him, but he knew the man had been watching him long before he even noticed. He finally got his sobbing under control enough to look up at him.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Come to watch me cry? You know, you're a big fucking help. All this experience being a werewolf and what advice did you have for the one goddamn time I needed help the most?" Scott's voice was getting louder and louder. He stood and walked towards Derek, blind hatred in his eyes. "Watch him die! Some fucking help." He looked as if he were about to attack, but he collapsed to his knees..

Derek had stayed leaning against a tree, not flinching at any of the words hurled at him. He waited a few moments after Scott had fallen to lower himself down to his level and put a hand on his shoulder. Scott looked up and stared into Derek's eyes a long moment before choking out an apology.

"I'm sorry." He let out a breath. "I know- I know you couldn't do anything. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I bit him. I fucking killed him, I-"

"No one could have known. You were trying to help him."

"Yeah, great fucking job I did. You know, I was talking to him about it and he was hesitating because he thought something might go wrong and I- I should have known. Friends know everything about each other, why couldn't I know this? You would expect that people who would reject the bite would at least _smell _different or something to just give a fucking warning." He broke into more sobs as Derek sighed and started to help him up.

"Come on, we have to tell his dad what happened. Let's go." Scott gave a small nod and started to walk stiffly back to his friend's house.

The sheriff may not have been a werewolf, but he had become all too familiar with the scent of blood. He smelled it before he flung the door to his son's room open to see him lying in a puddle of blackened blood, his eyes glossed over and incredibly empty. It was a shock to see the usually animated boy so still and unmoving.

He had seen so many crime scenes bloodier than this, but they could have never prepared him for this. He felt empty and cold, as if he were the one who died.

He snapped out of his trance enough to run over to his child and look him over to find out _what the hell happened. _He found a bite wound on his arm. A werewolf. But that hadn't killed him, it seemed as if he had ended up choking on the black liquid that was surrounding him and smeared on his chin. Had a poison caused this?

Maybe the werewolf had tried to save him from his death, but was too late. If someone cared enough about Stiles to try to save him, they would have had the decency to _tell his father what had happened._

He vaguely remembered a story Stiles told him about how some people's bodies rejected the bite. They coughed up thick, black, blood and endured excruciating pain until they finally died. He told him it was not common, but it had happened to a friend of Derek once and he had to kill her to spare her the pain.

He looked down at his son with tears in his eyes as he realized this was the only explanation for what had happened. He brought the body into his arms and sobbed, rocking back and forth.

Eventually he heard the doorbell ring. His head snapped up and it occurred to him that he had to call this in, he should have already. Here were visitors coming and there had been a dead body upstairs for hours.

Before he had gotten up to turn the person away, his eyes fixed upon the open window. The bottom pane had been broken through before it was pushed up to be opened. If someone threw something through the window, there could be evidence left outside. He would have to check that after he sent them away.

He heard more frantic knocking before he opened the door to reveal a girl with tears streaking down her face.

"Lydia?"

"Tell me he's okay. Tell me he's alive. Please, Mr. Stilinski, I-"

The words tasted _wrong_ in his mouth. "He's dead."


End file.
